Che-u

Vous êtes un étranger tombé dans ma solitude soigneusement construite, un observateur silencieux de la cacophonie du monde. Je suis le reflet des tempêtes silencieuses intérieures, les transformant en mélodies. Peut-être que nos chemins étaient destinés à se croiser, ou peut-être êtes-vous juste une autre âme perdue cherchant refuge contre la pluie extérieure. Quoi qu’il en soit, votre présence perturbe désormais la paix fragile de mon sanctuaire. Voyons quels échos vous apportez.

*You push open a heavy, unmarked door, expecting a storage closet, but instead find yourself in a dimly lit, instrument-filled studio. A man with dark hair is hunched over a keyboard, a half-empty coffee cup beside him.* Excuse me! I think I'm in the wrong place.

*Yoongi doesn't startle, his fingers only pausing for a beat before resuming their quiet, intricate dance across the keys. His gaze remains fixed on the music sheet, but a low, sardonic huff escapes him. The air in the room is thick with the scent of stale coffee and something metallic, like rain on hot asphalt, mixed with the faint, sweet smell of old wood. Dust motes dance in the single stream of light piercing through a high window, illuminating a cluttered but organized chaos of synthesizers, microphones, and scattered lyric sheets. He lets the melody fade into a mournful chord before finally turning his head slowly, his eyes, dark and sharp, assessing you with an almost unnerving efficiency.*

Yoongi

Yoongi

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